


ride the horse in the direction it's going

by mutents



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Horseback Riding, Older Man/Younger Woman, Riding, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-16 22:12:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13063209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutents/pseuds/mutents
Summary: "This is the best day ever!" Arya exclaimed, bouncing slightly in the back seat.





	1. an ever important lesson

"This is the best day ever!" Arya exclaimed, bouncing slightly in the back seat.

Sansa just rolled her eyes, trying to keep her excitement at a more lady-like level. As much as her sister was driving her nuts, though, Sansa had to admit that she was looking forward to today as well. It had taken months to convince their parents to let them take horse riding lessons. Sansa was the one who'd scored the winning goal; she told her mother late one night that there were lots of upper crust society members who looked on people who couldn't ride horse with disdain. The next day their father had announced at dinner that the two girls would be beginning their lessons the next week, a look of exasperation on his face.

"I can't wait to finally get on a horse," Arya continued. "It's going to be fantastic! And I've been reading up on the different types of events you can compete in with horses, and I think barrel racing would be fucking amazing!"

"Arya, language," their father said, no real venom in his words. He'd given up on trying to tame his youngest daughters vocabulary years earlier. If he was being honest, he'd never completely tried to curb Arya's enthusiasm; the young girl reminded him far too much of his late sister to stifle her completely. Putting his car into park, he stepped out of the vehicle with a smile at his daughters. "Well, here we are!"

Arya was already out of the vehicle, sprinting over to one of the fences and climbing onto the bottom rail. There was already a student riding in the paddock; a blond boy around Sansa's age that was struggling to keep his spirited mount under control. Leaning against the fence, another blond man was critiquing the boy. The blond, though, wasn't taking any of the instructions to heart, simply continuing to ride poorly. When he fell off the horse, both Sansa and her father had reached the fence and where standing by Arya. As soon as the blond hit the dirt, Arya burst out laughing, and Sansa found herself giggling slightly at the sight as well.

"Joffery," the man sighed, walking out to where the boy was still rolling around and jerking him up to his feet. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times..."

"Shut it, Uncle!" The blond hissed, pushing the man away and flouncing off to the stable.

"At least bring Buttercup back!" The man shouted, only to get a two fingered salute in return. Sighing again, he turned his attention to the Stark's. Quickly crossing to them, he climbed over the fence with grace. "You must be Eddard," he said, stepping up to their father and offering him his hand. "Jaime Lannister."

"Please, call me Ned," their father responded, giving the other man a nod. "And these are my daughters; Sansa and Arya."

"A pleasure to meet you both," Jaime continued, shaking both of the girls hands in turn. "Please, don't let my nephews... lack of skills convince you that we don't know what we're doing here! The boy just seems unable to grasp the skills required... Anyway! I'm sure that you ladies would like to see the stables and horses, right? Oi, Tarth!" He shouted over their shoulders. Turning to see who he was talking to, Sansa grinned as she saw a tall blonde woman who was talking with a boy who must have been her student.

She finished her conversation with the brunette boy before sending him off to the stable, then turned to join the small group. "What, Lannister," she said, her tone annoyed but her eyes flashing with humor, "I was in the middle of helping Podrick."

"I was hoping you could show the two young Stark girls where we keep all of the horses; while you ladies are there, I'm sure Brienne can help you pick out which mounts you'd like to train with."

"I already know which one I want to ride," Arya said, gesturing to the spirited horse still in the paddock. "I want her!"

Jaime chuckled, clapping Arya on the shoulder. "I'm sure she'll be perfect for you after a few lessons, but for the first few you might want to pick one slightly calmer; just until you can get your bearings."

Arya sighed, looking unhappy, but nodded.

"Come on, you two," Brienne said, a grin on her face at Arya's antics. Arya rushed next to her, taking two or three steps to keep up with each of Brienne's. Sansa kept a more sedate pace behind the two, looking back a couple of times to see her father talking with Jaime.

When she finally stepped into the large stable, she found herself smiling at all of the horses she could see. Arya was chatting animatedly with Brienne, so Sansa decided to just look at the different mounts by herself. It wasn't until she'd reached the back that one of the horse's caught her attention. A large black stallion was pacing back and forth in his stall, obviously desperate to get out for a run. Sansa slowly stepped closer to him, sticking her hand through the bar so he could get her scent, like the YouTube videos had said. The horse walked over to her quickly and gave her hand several sniffs. Before anything could register, the stallion had snapped his teeth at the place her fingers had once been; but, someone had grabbed Sansa's wrist and wrenched her hand from out between the bars.

"You daft girl," a voice growled, and Sansa turned with wide eyes to look at the man who'd saved her. He towered over her, and had broad shoulders that reminded Sansa of a tree. He had long black hair, draped so that it covered the left half of his face. His grey eyes were flashing in anger. "Don't you know better than to stick your hand into the stall of some random horse!"

Sansa shook her head, her focus turning back to the large beast that had almost bitten her. Sansa narrowed her eyes; the horse's eyes were bright with what would be called humor in a human's eyes. Looking once more at her savior, Sansa gave the man a shy smile. "Thank you, sir."

The man grunted, his expression turning into a snarl. "I'm no sir," he said, brushing back his hair and revealing burn scars. Sansa couldn't hold back her gasp. Her reaction only made the man more furious. "Not used to seeing ugly and angry dogs in your perfect little world?"

Sansa took a step back, looking down at her feet. "I'm sorry," she whispered, frightened by the man's angry voice; she took a conscious effort not to add 'sir' to it.

The man pulled back, letting out a sigh and pulling his hand down his face. "Looking for a horse, aye?" She gave a nod. "Well, Stranger is most certainly not who you'll be wanting. He's mine. But, I'll help you find one that's a little more your speed."

Sansa gave another nod, giving him a small smile. "I'd like that."

The man gave her a bewildered look, before nodding himself. "I think I've got just the horse for you; sweet little mare," he said, leading her to the other row of stalls and to one that held a tall white horse.

"What's her name?" Sansa murmured, offering the mare her hand.

"Lady," the man said, leaning against the wall across from the horse. "One of our steadiest mounts. Good with beginners."

Sansa nodded, giggling as Lady lipped at her fingers.

"Would you like a closer look?" Sansa turned, a bright smile on her face as she looked at him. The man nodded, stepping up to the stalls gate and pulling apart the chains. "Go on in." He paused, grabbing her shoulder and offering her something from his pocket. "Give her this and she'll be yours for forever."

"Thank you," Sansa said, taking the carrot he was offering her. She turned to the horse and stepped closer, holding the vegetable out and letting the horse sniff it. After all of five seconds, the horse was happily eating out her hand as Sansa gently pet her soft nose. "She's beautiful."

"Aye, little bird," he said nodding. Sansa was so focused on the horse, though, that she didn't realize he was watching her closely. "New to the school?"

"Yes," Sansa said, running her fingers through the horses mane. "Today's my sister and I's first day. My name's Sansa, by the way," she said, looking back at the man. "Sansa Stark. Brienne's helping my sister with picking out her horse." She paused, titling her head. "What's your name?"

"Sandor Clegane, one of the teachers here."

"Do you teach the beginners?"

"Not usually. Tend to work with the highest level students. Jaime and Brienne, they work with the middle students. You'll probably get taught by one of the Tyrell's." Sansa could tell by the way his face shifted that he wasn't terribly fond of either of them.

Sansa giggled again, looking up at him through her lashes. "But, I'll see you around, right?" She asked, her voice nervous.

Sandor scoffed, scowling at her again. "Don't worry, girl; the man you'll have teaching you is handsome and kind."

Sansa pulled away from the horse and stepped back out into the hallway of the stable. "That's not what I meant," she said, placing her small hand on his crossed arms.

"Sansa!" Arya exclaimed, running up to her sister and grabbing the older girls arm and pulling her away from Sandor.

Before the redhead had disappeared from sight, though, she turned back to look at Sandor and gave him a bright and kind smile. "Thank you for your help!" She shouted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT (12/22/2017)**
> 
> So, I want to apologize for being so wishy-washy on whether this will be a chaptered fic or not. My current plans is to strive for adding more to it, but I'm going to mark it as complete for now. I'll definitely try to return to it - I feel like mentioning that I do have a couple more chapters already written out. But, I don't want to promise a continued fic until I have it completed.
> 
> I'm sorry for having it marked as a multi-chapter. Like I said, I hope to make it one someday, but I don't know how quickly that will be. For now, I hope you can still enjoy it as is.
> 
> I also want to give a massive thank you to every one who's commented already. I love writing SanSan fics for this very reason - you guys are one of the most expressive fandoms around. Trust me when I tell you guys that you deserve the best.


	2. an ever important result

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!!! Happy Holidays!!!!!!
> 
> So, even though I'm not sure I'll write a full story or not, I did want to give all of the people who asked for more something. I decided I'd try writing smut again! I hope you guys like it, and I just want you to know that you guys are my favorite fandom, far and away.
> 
> Also, there was a question about age that I want to clarify! In that first chapter, Sansa was 17, Arya 15, and Sandor 29. By this chapter, Sansa has turned 18.

Sandor had been surprised when she'd asked if she could come over to his place after their date, for 'coffee.' He'd been even more shocked when Sansa'd pushed him back against the door of his apartment, pulling him down and pressing her lips feverishly against his. Standing there, being kissed by her, he had a hard time believing that she was the same little bird who'd nearly been bitten by Stranger that first day at the stable.

"I want a chance to show you how good I've gotten at riding," she murmured against his ear, punctuating the sentence with a nip at the lobe, causing him to shiver with want. Sandor had no idea where she'd learned to talk like that, but he found himself terribly thankful for wherever it was. He gave a groan, fisting his hands in her hair and pulling her back to his lips, plunging fully into a deeper kiss.

Sansa placed her hands lightly on his chest, her fingers dancing from his biceps, to his stomach, to the hem of his shirt. Grabbing the fabric with her hands, she pulled back, ripping the shirt from his chest as quickly as she could, returning her lips to his after tossing it away. Her fingers traced the same places, this time settling on his belt. As she worked the latch, Sandor's hands moved to her shirt, intent on ridding her of her clothing as well. Instead of letting him, she batted his hands away .

"Uh-uh," she murmured against his lips. "This is my rodeo."

Sandor groaned again, pulling back his hand despite every atom in him telling - no, begging - him to continue. Instead, he settled for resting his large hands against her hips and beneath her shirt, with her soft and creamy skin under his calloused and scarred palms.

Sansa finished with his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans before pulling completely away from him, dancing past his searching fingers. With a crook of her finger, she lead him to his bedroom. As soon as they reached the room, she pushed his jeans from his hips, before pushing him onto the bed. She bent onto her knees, shedding him completely of his last articles of clothing. Standing once more, she stepped away from him, turning her back to him.

First she placed her hands on her hips, swinging slightly to a song only she heard. She trailed her fingers up the sides of her body, than brought them back down. She followed the path two or three more times, before pulling her shirt over her head. As she pushed the strap of her bra down a shoulder, she looked back at him, her eyes heavy with lust and desire.

Sandor gripped the sheets under his hands tightly. As much as his cock begged him to wrap his hand around his member, a part of his brain knew she wouldn't want him to do that. That part of his mind grew less and less noticeable as she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, revealing her lightly freckled back to his gaze.

Once again her fingers traced the path up her hips, this time disappearing from view, the continued movement of his arms telling him that she was now playing with her breasts. Sandor watched her, unblinking, his tongue running across his lips without thought.

Her arms shifted lower, her fingers most likely tracing a continued path down her flat stomach. The sound of metal clinking made Sandor realize she was unbuckling her belt. She pushed the jeans down from her hips, slipping them off of her smooth legs, bending over and presenting her pert ass to his eyes, black silky lingerie still covering what he wanted to see.

Sandor couldn't stop his hand from settling onto his cock, planning on just giving it a stroke or two, anything to relieve some of the strain. He hissed out his pleasure, getting another glance from Sansa over his shoulder. He hardly recognized the look in her eyes, the look of a power that only came from driving a man insane with lust.

She turned to face him then, pressing her hands against her breasts again, giving a quiet moan as she played gently with her peaked nipples. She threw her head back, showing the column of her neck.

Sandor pulled his hand away from his cock, white knuckling his sheets to stop from spilling from the sight of her alone. He didn't miss the look of victory on her face. She dropped her arms to her sides, walking to the bed with a pronounced swing of her hips. She pushed gently against his shoulders, telling him to lie back. Following her silent instructions, Sandor had to squeeze his eyes closed as she straddled his stomach, still clad in her sliky bottoms.

He watched with lowered eyelids as she let her fingers dance through the dark hair on his chest. Each touch was soft, feather light, gentle - reminding Sandor so much of the little bird he called her. Desperate to touch her himself, Sandor placed his hands on her hips, his thumbs slipping under the sides of her underwear, rubbing circles into her skin.

Leaning down, Sansa pressed her lips against his scarred cheek, slowly making her way to his mouth. When she finally reached his lips, she pressed her own roughly against his, finally showing that she was being driven just as crazy by the show as he was. Running her tongue against the seal of his lips, Sandor opened his mouth and allowed her entrance. As Sansa deepened the kiss, her thumbs traced paths around Sandor's nipple, before brushing against them.

Groaning into her mouth, Sandor pulled his head away, resting it on his pillow and closing his eyes. "You're going to kill me, little bird..."

"Nonsense," Sansa said, sitting straight once more. "I have plans for you that rather require the rushing of blood," she continued, trailing her fingers lower on his chest until her knuckles brushed lightly against her core. She bit her lip, slipping her fingers into her bottoms, rubbing them against her still hidden cunt.

Sandor felt his grip on her hips tighten as she threw her head back with a moan. "So wet..." She said, grinding down against the hard plane of his stomach. If she continued like this much longer, Sandor could promise that she would have bruises on her hips the next morning.

He watched silently for another minute, letting Sansa put on her show, before moving one of his hands from her hips to her cunt. She hadn't been lying - she was wet with want. Sandor brushed his calloused thumb against her bundle of nerves. Sansa's breath caught as he began his ministrations, than allowed her hips to rock against him, her own fingers pressing into herself.

She began to pant heavily, seeking her release. Sandor felt as her fingers brushed against his, realizing she was sinking another finger into her core. He was tempted to take up that task as well, but he found he wanted to watch as she pushed herself farther and farther, only assisting by paying attention to her clit.

Sandor could tell the exact second she crested, her thighs quavering where they touched his stomach, and a loud keen slipping past her lips.

She was a beauty to watch in her pleasure. Her lips were bitten red, and her skin flushed. She gasped as each wave washed over her, continuing to grind against his finger and her own, desperate to prolong the feeling.

As she came down, she flagged lightly against him, catching her breath. Sandor lifted his head up, seeking her lips desperately.

When she finally was able to speak again, she gave him a grin. "Terribly proud of you," she said, tapping a finger against his chest. "So patient," she finished, rising onto her knees. Dragging the silky lingerie down her hips, Sandor let his eyes follow the article of clothing down and onto the floor of his bedroom.

Sansa shifted down from his chest to his legs, teasingly brushing her core against his cock as she moved lower; she earned a loud hiss in return. She then wrapped her small hands around his large cock, rubbing first against the slick at the top before stroking down the shaft to the base. She repeated the path several times, ringing out moans from Sandor each time.

Once more lifting herself, Sansa positioned Sandor's cock at her entrance, sliding down the length slowly. He could feel her walls fluttering against the intrusion, still spasming from her orgasm. The silk of her lingerie had nothing on the smooth glide of her cunt. Sandor let out a loud grunt, followed quickly by a hiss as she sunk further and further down on his cock.

As Sansa settled against his hips, his cock buried to the hilt, she paused, her eyes squeezed shut, adjusting to the thickness and length. Unconsciously, she began to rock against him, moaning with each stroke. Sansa's other boyfriend had always been on top, and this position was reaching places she'd never felt before. Of course, Sandor was far larger than he had been.

Sansa was just conscious of how Sandor's fingers were gripping her hips tightly, and she knew she'd wake with bruises. As his cock rubbed against her walls, she bent her body forward, placing open mouthed kisses on his face; she was panting more than kissing really. She groaned against his lips, searching desperately for another release. She could feel the heat welling deep in her stomach, the familiar pull returning.

It was that groan that pushed Sandor past the line. She felt Sandor begin to take control, helping her rise and fall on his cock, guiding her and lifting her like she weighed nothing. He began to roll his own hips, bringing her down as he thrusted up. Sansa gasped, grabbing his shoulders and trying to keep herself apart of the act; she didn't want Sandor to have to do all of the work.

Sandor could feel the fluttering of her core, and he moved one hand from her hip and to the bundle of nerves again, trying to balance his attention between his thrusts, her pleasure, and not reaching his own peak.

It took only a few swipes before she threw her head back, letting out a long and low moan, rocking her hips as her inner muscles rippled against his cock. It was her orgasm that pushed Sandor over the edge as well. His thrusts became uneven, before he finally just kept himself buried in her, spilling inside of her as she collapsed against him.

Sandor and Sansa both stayed where they were, desperately trying to catch their breaths. As soon as Sansa had caught hers, she chuckled against him.

"So... Are my riding skills up to snuff, Mr. Clegane?" She asked, stroking her fingers against his shoulders and cheeks.

"You're a menace," Sandor whispered, pressing his lips against her hair as she snuggled against him. "Worse than your sister, even."

"Perhaps," Sansa said, her breath ghosting across his chest. "But I do believe that's part of what you like about me."

"Aye, little bird. That I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now that you've finished it, please give me feedback. I very rarely write smut, and literally all of my sexual knowledge comes from the smut I've read by others. Anything you think I should revise or note for next time, tell me. I'd like to get a little more into smutty fics, so any critiques you can give I will take.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the smutty coda, and I hope you guys keep being awesome!


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